Ash Wednesday

Oddly, I like the beginning of Lent. It is a tradition in our church for pastor to put the sign of the cross in ashes on everyone's forehead. It is a very dramatic to see people return to their pews with the black mark of ash. It certainly is a reminder that we will all die someday "and to dust return".

Sometimes I forget about the mark and go to the gas station or the store. People, of course, stare. Those who know, pretend not to see. I remember and then rub it off. It gets on my fingers and clothing. I pause to ponder what it all means.

I have instructed my children about how the "after death" stuff should happen. I hope they grant me my wish. Cremate me, I ask, and sprinkle my ashes down a cascading waterfall in Yosemite National Park. Return me to water and earth and then death for me will be a release. I suppose this all sounds way too morbid. Don't get me wrong, I am happy to be alive, really.
But on Ash Wednesday I'm reminded of these things.